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Roasting the calamari in a cast-iron skillet, or any pan or casserole that can go directly over open flame, makes life easier. If you don’t have such a pan, roast the calamari in a regular baking dish, transfer them to a heated platter when they’re done, and pour the pan juices into a small saucepan to boil them down. For this recipe, bake the tentacles together with the bodies and reposition the tentacles in the opening of the body before serving.

This dish can be prepared on a charcoal grill or in a cast-iron pan or griddle. Just make sure, in either case, that the temperature is good and hot, so the calamari cook very quickly. For easy handling, especially on the grill, thread the calamari bodies onto a skewer—one or two per skewer, depending on the size. Thread the tentacles onto a separate skewer without crowding them, since they will need a few additional minutes to cook.

Even though I call these “stuffed” tomatoes, don’t actually stuff the rice filling into the tomatoes. Fill them loosely or they will be dense and dry after baking. You can put the tops back on the tomatoes flat or prop them up at an angle. Rice cooked this way—with a little olive oil and bay leaves—is a good dish on its own. We used to feed it to children or adults when they were recovering from an upset stomach, but don’t limit it to that. In addition to stirring the fresh basil into the filling, shred as much as you like and scatter it over the tomatoes after you put them on a plate. Basil and tomato is a union made in heaven, and who am I to question heaven?

I’m offering you the basic recipe for filling these eggplant rolls. You can take it in any direction you like, adding spinach, raisins, pinenuts, prosciutto, or whatever else sounds good to you. Eggplant rollatini are versatile in another way, too. Because the individual rolls are easy to serve, they are wonderful as a first course for a big crowd—like a family gathering—or as part of an Italian-American buffet. For a smaller crowd, this makes a substantial main course that needs only a first-course salad to make it a meal. If you’d like to make these simple rolls even easier to fill, you can cut the sticks of mozzarella into little cubes and stir them right into the ricotta filling.

Cleaning, rolling, poaching, and slicing the sweetbreads can be done in advance, but wait until the last minute to cook them and make the sauce. Two whole sweetbreads will serve six people—perfect if you’re preparing this recipe for sweetbread lovers. If your circle of sweetbread fans is smaller, simply make this recipe with one sweetbread and cut the rest of the ingredients in half. Veal sweetbreads are the thymus gland of young calves, which, when cooked, have a delicate flavor and a somewhat firm texture. Look for large, plump pairs of sweetbreads and trim off most of the outer membrane before you cook them, keeping enough intact to hold the sweetbreads together as they poach. (You can always trim more off after they cook.) My method of shaping and poaching the sweetbreads first, then pan-searing them just before serving, helps the sweetbreads keep their shape and reduces the amount of last-minute cooking. Save any less-than-perfect slices and the trimmings from the end of the sweetbread “sausage” as a treat for the cook, or as a first course for another meal. (If you can’t get to enjoy them right away, wrap them tightly and freeze them until you can.) Brown the sweetbread nuggets in a mix of butter and oil until crispy, remove them from the pan and drain them. Sauté some sliced mushrooms in the same pan, then toss the sweetbreads and mushrooms with a green salad dressed with lemon and oil.

Texture is a very important part of the gustatory pleasures of tripe. Tripe should be soft and yet resilient; you do not want it mushy. In this recipe, as I do when making many long-simmered sauces, I keep a pot of hot water near the tripe as it simmers. From time to time, I check the tripe, ladling in water if the sauce has cooked down and some of the tripe isn’t covered. At the end of cooking, there should be enough sauce so the tripe is nice and juicy but not watery.

Peppers with a slight kick to them, like the cubanellas or banana peppers suggested at left, are wonderful for this dish. If you can’t find those, choose the long, thin-skinned peppers often sold as “Italian frying peppers” in supermarkets. You can serve the peppers alone or with a side of rigatoni, dressed with some of the sauce from the stuffed-pepper baking dish, grated Pecorino Romano cheese, and a drizzle of olive oil. This is a favorite dish at Becco, our restaurant in New York’s Theater District.

You may be used to the large, pizzeria-size version of calzones, but I’m offering you this more typical Neapolitan version. Once you have the knack of making and filling the dough, the rest is easy. You can put whatever you like inside. Just make sure the fillings are drained of most of their excess liquid—the way I drain the ricotta overnight or squeeze the excess moisture from the spinach.

If you have beautifully ripe fresh plum tomatoes, peel and seed them for the sauce. If it isn’t tomato season, opt for canned tomatoes, but include a few fresh plum tomatoes to give the sauce a taste of freshness. I like the sweetness of jumbo lump crabmeat in these agnolotti, but if that is not available, substitute any type of fresh, sweet crabmeat, or even fresh sea or bay scallops cut into 1/2-inch pieces.

This meat filling is similar to the one for cannelloni on page 165. You can use them interchangeably.

Gorgonzola continues to age as it is stored in the refrigerator, intensifying in piquancy as it does. To slow this process down, wrap the cheese tightly in plastic wrap and store it in the coldest part of the refrigerator. This sauce is a good way to use leftover Gorgonzola cheese.

Traditionally, in Italian-American restaurants, garlic bread entailed lots of chopped garlic mixed with butter and a little oil. This version, struffinato—or rubbed—with a smashed garlic clove, is more subtle, and is the right match for the Arugula and White-Bean Salad (page 60) or the Escarole and White-Bean Soup (page 86).

I prefer “jumbo lump” crabmeat picked from blue-claw crabs for this recipe. If you can’t find that, substitute “lump” crabmeat—smaller pieces from the same species of crab—or chunks of king-crab meat. Avoid fine-textured crabmeat, like snow crab or spider crab.

The same principle I use to bring out the cauliflower’s sweetness in this sauce—cooking raw cauliflower in olive oil—works well if you’d like to make cauliflower as a side dish. In that case, cut the cauliflower into individual florets rather than small pieces. You might want to use a little fresh oregano here, but parsley fits right in. Finishing this dish, like the Linguine with White Clam and Broccoli Sauce on page 122, is a bit of a balancing act. Bread crumbs will continue to thicken the sauce as it simmers, so be careful—it’s easy to end up with a sauce that’s too thick. On the other hand, if you don’t add enough bread crumbs, the sauce will be too watery. If either of these is the case, remember, you’re in control. Simply add a little hot stock or pasta-cooking water if the sauce is too thick. If it’s not thick enough, add bread crumbs—a little at a time, because it takes a few seconds for them to do their thing.